


hoe hoe hoe

by stanswhore



Series: chris evans masterlist [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Christmas, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Holidays, Professor!Steve Rogers, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:22:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28477605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stanswhore/pseuds/stanswhore
Summary: Your dad’s best friend isn’t exactly who you thought he’d be.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Series: chris evans masterlist [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1927243
Comments: 6
Kudos: 56





	hoe hoe hoe

Walking in the front door, the smell of eggnog, and pine hit your nose, mixing in with the warmth of the newly cooked food in the kitchen. Looking around the house, you registered how much decorating you had left your father to do, pondering whether or not he strained his back putting up the Christmas tree. You'd have to make it up to him somehow.

"Dad! I'm home." you yelled out, stepping out of your shoes. Even with the amount of work he had done, he still had the time to shovel the driveway despite the heavy amount of snow that had precipitated last night. The mixed-breed boxer pawed his way to you, the dog panting as he snuggled himself against your leg. "Hey, cutie."

Your father stuck his head from the kitchen, motioning for you to come into the room. "In the kitchen. I was getting worried that you got stuck in traffic. It's an absolute nightmare coming into the city from 122 right now."

Entering the kitchen with Dodger, you went to hug your dad, your arms wrapping around his waist. The man chuckled, giving your cold body a hug back before kissing your forehead. You sighed, pulling away, looking around the kitchen to see the dining room covered with food. "Traffic was a bitch, but I managed to get out of it. Although, I may have made a couple of people mad, but you gotta do what you have to do, right?"

"You got that right, pumpkin." he replied. For someone with a 20 year old daughter, the man was young, having you with his high school sweetheart at 19. He gestured at the food. "You hungry? I made all of this and I'm not sure that everyone at the party will eat all of this."

"Jesus, Dad, were you drunk when you made all of this? This is enough to feed the whole country." you commented, walking up to the table to grab a mini quiche off the plate. Your tongue swirled around the food, relishing the flavor. It was a gift having your father as a successful chef.

"I may have went overboard with the cooking, but I got excited." he explained, chuckling. Pouring some eggnog in a mug, he offered it to you, taking a sip of his own before announcing his news. "An old friend of mine is coming for the party. My best friend in college. He's in town for the holidays, and he'll be staying with us for a few. That okay?"

You nodded, washing the remaining quiche in the eggnog, swallowing it down. "Yeah, that's fine. Who's this friend of yours? Have I met him before?"

"You used to call him Uncle Steve, but he left for Brooklyn when you were four. I doubt you'd remember him but he gave you that necklace last year when he couldn't make it. He's a professor in Brooklyn now, but he wanted to come to Boston, spend the holidays with us." 

"Wait, he gave me this necklace?" you asked, holding up the golden angel wings between your fingers. Your dad nodded, untying the knot on his apron. "Oh, wow. Hey, I officially get to thank him for it."

You dad agreed, nodding again as he popped a mint in his mouth, his teeth grinding down on it. "Yes, you will. He'll appreciate seeing you again. He's been talking about seeing his favorite girl—shit."

"Something wrong?" 

"I forgot to pick up the ham today. I've been so busy making everything for today that I completely forgot about the main course for tomorrow." said your father, rubbing the bridge of his nose, mentally slapping himself. He sighed. "Can you take the pie out of the oven when it's ready? I have to run to the store really quick and get the ham."

Shaking your head, you stopped him, pushing his clearly exhausted body into the nearest chair, shaking a finger at him when he tried to stand back up. "No, no, no. You're tired and you need to rest. I'll get the ham, and anything else you need. Text me a list."

"Pumpkin, you don't have to do that. You just got home—" he was cut off by your insistent expression, the man relenting. "Okay, fine. Go to the Costco, they have a better selection there. And drive safe, it's supposed to be snowing tonight but with Massachusetts weather, you never know if it'll start early."

"Gotcha. I'll be back soon. In the meantime, you sit, rest, and text me a list of things I need." you said, grabbing the keys from the table. The cold air hit your face, your cheeks stinging from the impact. You winced, wishing home was somewhere warmer.

The drive to Costco was nostalgic, the familiar buildings and roads bringing back memories so deep you forgot they existed. The little ice cream place reminded you of your first kiss with your first grade boyfriend. You had immediately broken up with him the next day, claiming it was the way he walked when he asked if it was his sloppy peck on the lips. You had lied through your teeth.

Slosh was fun, it made it that much gross to walk through the barely shoveled parking lot, nearly slipping as you reached the entrance. One of the employees by the door handed you a cart, giving you a curt smile before returning to his spot.

Pushing the cart down the aisles, you immediately head to the grocery area, getting a text from your dad of all the food to get. With how short the list was, the cart had been unnecessary, but you decided to get all the last minute Christmas shopping out of the way, grabbing a Christmas card to match the present you had gotten for your father.

You had just bent over, reaching for the ham when you heard your name called, the familiar voice making you look up. A few feet behind you stood your history professor, a surprised smile on his face as he took you in. You returned the smile, stunned by the sight of you professor. "Professor Rogers? Hey, what're you doing here?"

The blond raised an eyebrow, his piercing blue eyes flickering to the necklace visible. He smirked inside, his heart warming at the thought. "I'm in the city for the holidays. I'm staying with a friend, catch up with them. What about you? Any exciting plans for Christmas?"

"Just spending it with my dad." you replied, reaching behind you to randomly grab a ham, not looking at the brand, and dropped it in the cart. "To be honest, I didn't think you could even leave Brooklyn. I mean, you practically worship the city, it's a surprise seeing you outside of it."

Professor Rogers laughed, his laughter was what you imagined angels to sound like. To say you had a tiny crush on the hot professor was understandable, although, so did everyone who had eyes. The professor leaned against the freezer, his eyes never breaking from yours. "Brooklyn's nice but it's nice to get out once in a while. That's a beautiful necklace you have there."

"Thanks, I got it from my dad's friend." you said, blushing slightly at the compliment. Taking a quick look at your phone, you noted you had everything your dad had asked for. Glancing back up at the Professor Rogers, you noticed how close he was, barely a few feet away. You gave him a smile. "It was nice seeing you, Professor. I'll see you in class."

Before you could move your cart, the professor placed a hand on it, motioning for you to pause. The blond scratched the back of his head, rocking back and forth on his heels. "Do you need help with anything? I can help you load this in your car, if you want."

"I didn't realize you worked at Costco, Professor." you teased, earning the cutest blush from the blond. Giggling, you shook your head, enjoying his company a lot more than it was allowed. "Don't worry, it's fine. It's not a lot, and I wouldn't want to bother—"

"You're not." he interrupted, sheepishly staring at the floor. The professor made himself look up, smirking when he realized you were blushing. "I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want to. Humor me?"

Call it stupidity or side effects of Steve Rogers' presence, but you wanted to spend more time with him, no matter how domestic the chore. Your smile widened, if possible, and you nodded. "Alright, if you insist. I've gotten everything I need, so I can tag along with you."

"All I really needed was some coffee," Professor Rogers held up the little plastic container filled with coffee grounds. Your thoughts immediately went to his hands wrapped around the cylinder, mentally slapping yourself for finding the simple action hot. "I'm ready to go if you are."

"Oh, okay. Let's go then."

The wall from the grocery area to the checkout was rather fun, the professor making you blush too many times to count, the smile on either of your faces never leaving. It wasn't a secret how many people fought to be in his class, guys included, mostly trying to "bond" with the professor only to get turned down every time someone had the balls to ask him. But it never stopped anyone from trying. It was almost pathetic, but very amusing in a sadistic way.

Professor Rogers held your grocery bags in his hands, effortlessly carrying them while you tried to take them back, feeling bad for having your professor help you out. The man would wave away your pleas, and you gave up as soon as you neared your car, unlocking the doors, and opened the trunk, Professor Rogers unloading all the bags inside. You bit back a smile, admiring the view, jealously wondering who would be lucky enough to end up as his wife.

He closed up the trunk once he was done, shifting his weight between his feet. "So, are you staying in Boston for the whole break or...?"

"Yup. I haven't spent much time with my dad since summer, and I've been guilted to stay in the cold since he's too stubborn to go somewhere warmer." you answered, playfully rolling your eyes. Professor Rogers walked you to the driver's side while you played with your keys, not wanting to say goodbye to him already. "What about you?"

"Me, too." said the professor, tucking his hands in his winter coat. He sighed, the smile dropping. "It was really nice to see you. I'll see you soon, sweetheart."

You nearly swooned at the nickname, cursing your heart for being so easily affected. "You, too, Professor. Happy Holidays and all that."

He laughed, walking off with a wave, the smile that had fallen now impended on his face as he walked back to his car. Steve turned around to see you get in yours, unsubtly staring at your ass. He sighed once again, a wave of sadness washing over him, the feeling he got every time he had to say goodbye to you. It would only be a couple of minutes, but it didn't make him hate it any less.

You drove off after a few seconds of getting your shit together; seeing your unbearable hot professor made you feel like a disgusting head-over-heels in love teenager. Or in other words, it made you the same as those desperate girls back on campus. You scoffed at the thought, starting your car. Hopefully, you'd see him again before class starts, but you highly doubt it.

Snow was falling, the little flurries making it harder to see through the windshield, only to stop suddenly when you reached your house. You grabbed the groceries from the trunk, easily carrying it into the house, so focused on not slipping that you hadn't noticed a very familiar car in the driveway.

Opening the door with ease, you entered the house, almost getting knocked out by the eager dog, jumping up on you. Laughing, you placed all the bags in one arm, reaching down with your free one to pet Dodger. The dog panted happily, his tongue sticking out of his mouth as it dismounted it's paws off your legs. The house had gotten awfully warm, even for you, and you immediately set the bags down to take off your coat. You hadn't noticed the shoes besides the door.

"Dad, I'm back." you announced, picking up the bags and headed to the kitchen, your gaze on the floor, careful not to slip.

Your father clapped Steve's back, the broad blond's presence gone unnoticed by you while you dropped the bags on the kitchen island. Your dad smiled. "Thanks, pumpkin. Honey, this is Steve, my buddy from college."

You turned around, facing them, a grin on your face, only to drop slightly when you saw who Steve was. There, standing in the middle of your kitchen, stood your history professor, all six feet of him, nonchalantly grinning at you. He engulfed you in a hug, leaving you breathless. "Professor?"

"Hello, sweetheart."


End file.
